The New Life
by allthewaysweets
Summary: Sherlock is back from the dead, John is in University an dreading to St. Barts next year to complete his studies. He has just found his best mate Oliver shot dead and nailed to a wall (Not as gory as it sounds, don't worry!). The Game is on. All over again. Final Part/ Part three of The New...
1. Chapter 1

***Authors Note Please Read* Hey Sweeties, here we are Part 3. Wow, well, let's make it good, eh? Now what I have planned is that you can read this without have read the past two installments of ****_The New…_**** If that makes any sense, anyway if you do want to read the past two, now, as you may have deduced, Sherlock is back! Yay! I'm not sure what villain will be back (Moriarty?) or even CAM, maybe. Who knows? Anyway I hope you enjoy**

**Oh and the POVs will change now and then but I'll put lines to show where they change ****J**

**Talk later ****J**

**-allthewaysweets xoxo **

Today was the day. _The _day. Three years since Sherlock stepped off St. Barts. John's heart ached. He was alone in his dorm and London University, staring at the photo of them they took on their small holiday they took. Sherlock looked so, so… Happy. John had no idea was suicidal. Maybe Moriarty drove him too it on the case. John remembered running through the streets with him one night, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, just him and Sherlock. No one else. John was now studying to be a doctor, next year he would be moving to St. Barts to study to be a solider. Becoming an Army Doctor. John's heart ached even more thinking about St. Barts. John decided to be an Army Doctor soon after Sherlock jumped, save the lives of those saving lives. Harry thought he was just going through a phase, and how he was doing it just to see Dad again. John told her how Dad was in Iraq, and how John was enlisted to head to Afghanistan, Harry tried to convince him not to go there by giving him reasons on how bad the holiday was when they went there last year. John picked up his bags after that and left her. John hadn't seen Harry since. John touched the necklace he wore everywhere he went, the charm around it was the key to 221B Baker Street. Mycroft gave it to him to keep, saying he wouldn't need it anyway. John looked across at the empty mattress across the room, wishing Sherlock was there, studying whatever he would study. Criminology most likely, 'The Science Of Deduction. Being the consulting detective he always talked about, the first one in the world, looking up at him and smiling, Sherlock giving John the smile that melted his heart and made him fall in love with all over again, the smile only Sherlock gave to John, and John replying with the smile he only gave to Sherlock. John Watson wasn't one for believing in dreams coming true, not until that next minute.

There was a knock at the door.

"Mr. Watson? I-I'm sorry to bother you at such an hour, it's Mrs. Kealy, the rooms advisor, I-I have your new roommate, sorry, every where else was full, love, but he says he knows you."

"Ah, ok, coming, just one minute"

"Take your time, love."

John unlocked the door and opened it wide so both of them could enter

John's mouth dropped open, because standing beside Mrs. Kealy was no one other than Sherlock Holmes.

John looked different, very different. Sherlock knew in his mind palace that he would change and grow, but not this muscle wise. Sherlock could see from the slight redness of his eyes that he had been crying recently, then his mind palace recalled that it was the three-year anniversary since he stepped off the roof of St. Barts, he hadn't planned their reunion to be like this, but then again, not many things went to plan. Sherlock the chain around his neck carried the key to 221B, and it was, held, often. John's hair had grown, now covering half his forehead, and was a mess, there were medical study books spread across his bed, like butter spread across bread. He looked tired, very tired.

John closed his mouth and held out a hand, Sherlock took it and shook it

"Sherlock, long time no see."

"Yes."

"Right boys, it seems the introduction is already complete, now, um, John, would you kind staying up for another hour, just while the rest of Sherlock's boxes come up?"

"Of course, happy to help."

John gave Mrs. Kealy a half smile

"Right, boys, I'll leave you too it."

Mrs. Kealy left them and the dimly lightened room. Sherlock strode over to the bare mattress and placed his backpack down and turned towards John.

"John, I—"

John held up a hand

"Sher, please, don't, not right now. I don't even know if this a dream or real, I hope it's real, but, just wait 'till all of your boxes get here, okay?"

John looked up at Sherlock, he had tears in his eyes.

"Okay."

Sherlock lowered his head and sat on the edge of the bare mattress, and John sat on his bed, and lowered his head into his hands. Sherlock felt horrible, he wanted to go over and comfort John, but the boxes started coming in, and both boys helped place the boxes on Sherlock's side of the room, until the very last one. John practically slammed the door behind the last mover man and turned to Sherlock with an expecting look.

"You, you. What the hell? Three years, Sherlock. You let me grieve, I got my life back, piece by piece, and now on _the _third year anniversary, you just come back swaggering in?! I watched you fall, Sherlock, fall off the rooftop of St. Barts. You better have bloody great explanation for yourself or I'm either gonna bruise you with kisses or bruise you with punches."

"John, I, I-"

"Well?"

Sherlock fell to his knees

"I am so sorry, John, for all of the pain and hurt that I caused you, I was taking down Moriarty's network, he is all around the world John, I had had to stop him, John, had to stop him getting to you."

John's shadow towered over Sherlock's, a hand lifted his chin.

"Why didn't you let me do it with you?"

"He's Moriarty. He would have killed you. Or one of his gunmen."

John stepped away.

"Who knew?"

"Pardon?"

"Who knew you weren't dead, Sherlock? Because you faked your death, at least _somebody_ would've known that you were alive."

"Mycroft."

"Okay."

"And a few of the homeless network."

"What?!"

"And a few-"

"No, you're saying a few of your _homeless_ network deserve to know you're alive apart from _me_?"

"No."

John huffed and grabbed his jacket that was dangling off a hook on the back of his door.

"Where are you going, John?"

"For a walk."

Without another word the door slammed shut and John was gone.

Sherlock cleared his throat and rose, opening the first box and began to un-pack.

~~O~~

John was grateful he wore a jacket, the cool night air was ice cold, he walked and walked, taking no note of where he was heading, head always to the ground, until his feet landed on a familiar pathway, the pathway to the Gardens, the Gardens held the secret apartment of his and Sherlock's. He could still smell the musty air from two blocks away, he would have to break in, John left the key with 'Sherlock's' body when it was lowered into the grave. John had no idea when the sudden impulse came to go there, but he was already running. Before he even knew it he was outside the door, the exterior was the same as the day he was last here, exactly three years ago. His old rugby stuff was even still inside. John walked around the side until he came to the window that Sherlock always left open. John slid it open with surprisingly ease. He climbed in like he always had. What was left of that living room's furniture was falling apart and will collapse if anyone even tried, it was even dustier from when first came here with Sherlock. John decided to try and at least get his old rugby stuff back. The door to the library was hard to open, very hard. But with a good shove of the shoulder it creaked open slowly, John's mouth dropped open at the sight that laid before him, the entire room was ransacked. The two chairs that sat before the fire were in pieces, books shredded, furniture smashed, his rugby bag was no where to be seen. John walked to the middle of the room, taking in what was once the room that shared so many memories. John had to take a double-take on what was now on the wall, and cover his mouth with his hand to stop himself from puking, John wondered what the foul smell was, and he had found it, neon yellow bright spray paint reading;

**_I HAVE FOUND YOU AND I AM COMING FOR YOU JOHN WATSON _**

And nailed to the wall beside it was his old best mate Oliver, shot dead through the head. He remembered Oliver how he was in Sherlock's old ballet class and how he was there for him during his grieving, how John helplessly tried to teach him rugby, how Oliver showed John the wonders of nightclubs spread across London. John didn't waste another moment, he ran through the front door into London's night and straight to Sherlock. John knew what was happening. The game was on. All over again.

***Authors Note Please Read* Hey Sweeties, did you like that chapter? Hopefully you did, and hopefully it made sense, if not, just ask me ****_or_**** if you are up for it, I'll leave some links down below so you can read the past two installments; **

**_The New Kid _****and ****_The New Case_****, anyway I am very excited to write up what's gonna happen next, and if you can, pretty, pretty, pretty please with a murder on top can you please comment or review your thought of this chapter? I would appreciate it so much! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed it, and always, talk to you guys later ****J**

**-allthewaysweets xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

***Authors Note Please Read* Hey Sweeties! I hope that you liked the last chapter, hopefully this one will be even better ****J****Now, I was working on this story earlier in this week and somehow this didn't save properly and I lost all my work, which is very annoying, so I am working with what I can go off it but in the meantime, lets get one with chapter two, eh? I said that stuff about chapter one because in chapter two something may seem out of place but hopefully all goes well ****J**

**Annnnd the reason I am posting this two weeks is that I fell sick, very sick and it stopped m working on this and other things, so I apologize but…**

**Enjoy, Sweeties! ****J**

Sherlock was just finishing of putting his side of his room together by putting his skull on his bedside table when John swung open the door in a rush, he was panting sweaty and… so goddamn sexy… _No, no time to think about that, John has moved on, idiot… _John was practically spitting mumbles of sentences, he was a mess. Sherlock could make out a few words, like nail, apartment, but what stood out for him was _murder_, Sherlock wanted to grin like a cheser cat but this was John, not some petty client, Sherlock had to be serious. For John. Anything for John. Sherlock walked over to John's side and closed the door slowly, and guided John to sit on his bed.

"John, you need to calm down. Take a deep breath. Tell me when you are ready."

John sat there looking up at Sherlock taking deep breaths, then looked around the room.

"How- How did you do your side of the room so quickly?"

Sherlock shrugged but smiled, giving a little wave of his hand to gesture.

"Just sort of… Happened."

"Huh."

The two of them were silent while John caught his breath.

"My best friend Oliver is dead, I-I don't know how, b-but-"

John broke down into to tears, Sherlock tried his face, John had a new best friend, well, not really, he was dead now… _Good…_

John cleared his throat

"He is nailed to a wall at our secret apartment, in the library. It's a mess, Sher."

Sherlock whirled around and faced John, so many things were rushing through his mind… How John called it _our _secret apartment, how john called him _Sher_, things were moving much quicker than expected.

John swallowed.

"I hadn't been there since you… you jumped and… I didn't know where else to go. And-and I found him nailed to the wall and above him were the words, 'I have found you and I am coming for you John Watson.'"

John closed his eyes momentarily

"The body I'm guessing was has been dead for no more than 24 hours, I last saw him a couple of days ago when he went out for the weekend to spend it with his girlfriend, there were severe injuries to his neck head and arms and blood dripping from his eyes. I-I don't know what to do Sherlock."

Sherlock sat down on his bed beside him, and wrapped his arms around John's shoulders, John slowly rested his head on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock comforted John, while fresh tears made their way down his soft cheeks, their faces were very close together now, both studying each other faces, how each other had changed so much… John suddenly pulled away, Sherlock corrected himself…_ No, now is not the time…_

"S-Sherlock, we should probably get to the crime scene…"

"Yeah."

Sherlock and John grabbed their coats and quickly made their way off campus to the apartment.

John was right, the room was completely ransacked, the chairs turned over, the table smashed to pieces and indeed on the wall above the smashed table was Oliver, and the spray painted words, Sherlock's mouth dropped open, Sherlock remembered Oliver in his old ballet class, how his dad died getting information for the government… His head was spinning he needed to get control of himself and deduce. This wasn't work of Moriarty, this was the work of someone new, but yet old, always been there in and out of the underworld but yet a freshman every time, his name was CAM, or at least that was how people knew him by. Looks like CAM is after John, for some reason…

Sherlock dialed Lestrade's number and made his way to the bedroom, he picked up his phone almost immediately

"Sherlock, Mycroft just got back home himself, how did the reunion go, eh?"

"Not how I thought it would go. But listen, I have a crime scene for you."

"Yeah? This time of night?"

"The game is never over, Lestrade."

"Yeah, yeah, you Holmes and your bloody games, gimme the address and I'll send a team down to close everything off and I'll come and inspect everything in the morning."

"Can't you do it now?"

"No, my boyfriend just got home and I want to relax, you're not the only one who hates Sally and that Anderson bloke you know, I wish I never bloody hired them in the first place."

"Ok… But make sure you're here first thing."

"Yeah, yeah, now hurry up and give me the sodding address."

Sherlock gave the address and hung up with one swift press, to find John standing by the door at the other end of the room, looking at the ceiling

"I remember when you first showed me this place, all those times, that last time… Why did you leave me, Sherlock?"

Sherlock walked over to John and cupped one of his cheeks

"I had to protect you."

John swallowed

"You should have taken me with you."

Sherlock wanted to explain just how much of an bad idea that would have been and all the things that _would've _gone wrong, but he didn't want this situation to go downhill and John to storm out of the building again

"I know, a decision I was to blind to realize until now, until I can see you and hold you in my hands again."

John smiled

"You idiot."

Sherlock smiled in return

"I missed you."

"Oi, what happened to all that sociopath crap?"

"Oh, that's saved for anyone else but you."

"I'm very glad that is the case."

This time John closed the distance between their lips, it was soft, tender and only last for a couple of seconds, for a moment both of them just stood there, their faces inches apart, until Sherlock this time lifted John's face to his, pulling him into a powerful kiss he wanted to give him so much the past three years, how Sherlock planned different scenarios in his mind palace. Every single one was so different to what was happening here.

As they slowly started to head towards the bed, there was a smashing sound at rhe door. The police were here.

…_Great, just in time..._...

-O-

John was surprised at the pang of disappointment when the police arrived, then again he was surprised with everything that had been happening the past few hours. How Sherlock had come back from the dead.

…_No, he was never dead.. But how? He jumped…_

John's head throbbed as the police asked him over and over for statements. He looked around for Sherlock but he was nowhere to be seen. As the policewoman -who looked a little to much like the childhood enemy Sally Donovan- told him he could leave and 'this matter is now in police hands' John staggered out of the apartment… The apartment that shared so many memories, now it was in 'police hands'. John wanted to walk back in there and tell them no, this apartment was theirs, but Sherlock was the one who called Lestrade. Step by slow step John made his way back to campus. Alone. Until somebody tugged him into an alleyway, John tried to make out a body and punch it, which he hit something… Bony flesh, very bony flesh…

"Ow! Geez stop punching me John!"

Sherlock. Of course it was. John was wondering if this was a dream or he was just very high at the moment.

"Why did you pull me into here for god's sake, Sherlock?"

"I need to tell you something."

"What? What is it?"

**Hey Sweeties, I hope that chapter wasn't too bad, it did write some of it while on cold medicine so just know if it was that bad, I was on medicine. Thank you so much for reading, I have decided for CAM to be the villain for now, but who knows I might bring back Moriarty just so he can kill CAM. That would be nice. Anyway, hope you enjoyed and see you guys next chapter. Traaaa**

**-allthewaysweets xoxo**


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